I bathe you in shade
And swaddle you in expectation
The light of your sun
Cannot penetrate the thick undergrowth of heritage
Leaving your roots to wither
And your leaves to droop
You cannot rise above the musty smell of forgotten heirlooms
Hand-me-downs weighing you down
I tower above you -
An imperious redwood grown high through my labors
Your withered bloom
Dropping petals
Like bread crumbs
That you cannot follow home
To father
The birds of my boughs
Have picked apart your planned path
You are lost
And can use only the moss on my shoulders
To follow my way
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